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I sort of hit a wall today. Partly, I didn’t sleep and I really didn’t eat, but partly I kind of have been powering through this awful cold dark winter with no medication, and I’m not like– I don’t have the sads, or whatever, it’s just that everything I do is through a thick layer of inertia. (more whining under the cut including the hilarious recollection of how I once literally got arrested because I could not get my shit together, they will actually arrest you for that)
So. Whoomph. Everything is really hard to do, and I’m simultaneously aware that I’m barely fucking moving. And I just basically crapped out a 70k-word novel, only it’s not done yet, on top of having just prior to that basically sharted about 55k of an almost-novel as well. So that’s really sort of hollowed me out. There’s more to come but…
I had to make a phone call yesterday, and I couldn’t do it. So I didn’t do it. And I didn’t do it today. At this point I’m probably in trouble. But i couldn’t do it. I just couldn’t. And my car is overdue for inspection and an oil change, and the whole idea of how to actually handle that is overwhelming me to the point that I literally have no idea what to do.
Which is STUPID, and I know I have about half a dozen well-meaning friends who will instantly say “well, okay, just do this first” and I’m like I know. That’s what you do. You do that first. It’s not that I don’t know how to execute these tasks. It’s the part where you do a thing that I’m stuck on, not the part where you think about doing things. It’s almost like I’m mentally ill or something. Right?
Say no to depression, it shrinks your brain. I don’t know, maybe my car will catch fire or I’ll go to jail forever. Being on fire would be a novelty, I’ve never really been on fire. I have actually been in jail, and it was because of a thing like this, where there was some incredibly simple thing I had no ability whatsoever to do, and even at the time, when they took my glasses and my shoes and my jewelry away and put me in an actual jail cell in my socks, I was sort of glad because at least I didn’t have to worry about it anymore. I literally got arrested because I couldn’t get my shit together.
It was okay in the end, but that’s my story. I literally got arrested once, because I could not get my shit together. (Eventually they suspend your license if you can’t figure out how to pay a ticket or whatever that thing was! Who knew? I did! I worried about it constantly! I had no idea what to do! and the semi-sympathetic lady cop who subluxed my shoulders when she cuffed me was like, well you can just come in and ask if there’s anything on your license, and i was like you lost me at the first verb there lady, also you drive like shit and that is excruciating when you have hypermobile shoulders and are in handcuffs. Actually I said none of those things, I just sobbed, because that was the level I was at.)
So anyway. That’s where my mind instantly has gone. I will catch fire, or be arrested. Possibly both. Because my shit being together is a thing on a separate plane from the possible. They just don’t intersect.
(This is an improvement; before I ate something just now I was convinced that I had only ever been terrible in my life, so at least now I just think I’m a hilarious tire fire. Things are looking up.)
And Tumblr says I have 2 unread chat messages but won’t show me them. And I sent an email this morning to 8 people and don’t know if it went through, so that’s a problem. And maybe those chat messages would tell me? But I can’t read them. They’re invisible. I don’t know. I don’t know.
I sort of hit a wall today. Partly, I didn’t sleep and I really didn’t eat, but partly I kind of have been powering through this awful cold dark winter with no medication, and I’m not like– I don’t have the sads, or whatever, it’s just that everything I do is through a thick layer of inertia. (more whining under the cut including the hilarious recollection of how I once literally got arrested because I could not get my shit together, they will actually arrest you for that)
So. Whoomph. Everything is really hard to do, and I’m simultaneously aware that I’m barely fucking moving. And I just basically crapped out a 70k-word novel, only it’s not done yet, on top of having just prior to that basically sharted about 55k of an almost-novel as well. So that’s really sort of hollowed me out. There’s more to come but…
I had to make a phone call yesterday, and I couldn’t do it. So I didn’t do it. And I didn’t do it today. At this point I’m probably in trouble. But i couldn’t do it. I just couldn’t. And my car is overdue for inspection and an oil change, and the whole idea of how to actually handle that is overwhelming me to the point that I literally have no idea what to do.
Which is STUPID, and I know I have about half a dozen well-meaning friends who will instantly say “well, okay, just do this first” and I’m like I know. That’s what you do. You do that first. It’s not that I don’t know how to execute these tasks. It’s the part where you do a thing that I’m stuck on, not the part where you think about doing things. It’s almost like I’m mentally ill or something. Right?
Say no to depression, it shrinks your brain. I don’t know, maybe my car will catch fire or I’ll go to jail forever. Being on fire would be a novelty, I’ve never really been on fire. I have actually been in jail, and it was because of a thing like this, where there was some incredibly simple thing I had no ability whatsoever to do, and even at the time, when they took my glasses and my shoes and my jewelry away and put me in an actual jail cell in my socks, I was sort of glad because at least I didn’t have to worry about it anymore. I literally got arrested because I couldn’t get my shit together.
It was okay in the end, but that’s my story. I literally got arrested once, because I could not get my shit together. (Eventually they suspend your license if you can’t figure out how to pay a ticket or whatever that thing was! Who knew? I did! I worried about it constantly! I had no idea what to do! and the semi-sympathetic lady cop who subluxed my shoulders when she cuffed me was like, well you can just come in and ask if there’s anything on your license, and i was like you lost me at the first verb there lady, also you drive like shit and that is excruciating when you have hypermobile shoulders and are in handcuffs. Actually I said none of those things, I just sobbed, because that was the level I was at.)
So anyway. That’s where my mind instantly has gone. I will catch fire, or be arrested. Possibly both. Because my shit being together is a thing on a separate plane from the possible. They just don’t intersect.
(This is an improvement; before I ate something just now I was convinced that I had only ever been terrible in my life, so at least now I just think I’m a hilarious tire fire. Things are looking up.)
And Tumblr says I have 2 unread chat messages but won’t show me them. And I sent an email this morning to 8 people and don’t know if it went through, so that’s a problem. And maybe those chat messages would tell me? But I can’t read them. They’re invisible. I don’t know. I don’t know.
